


Baseball

by lanalucy



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003), No Fandom, Original Work
Genre: Dirty Talk, F/M, Married Sex, Sleepy Sex, Wake-Up Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-20
Updated: 2012-12-20
Packaged: 2017-11-21 19:44:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/601405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lanalucy/pseuds/lanalucy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What was that?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Baseball

Something jarred him awake.  Not a scary something, though he couldn’t have explained the difference if he’d been asked. 

He glanced over at her, lying on her stomach, sheet barely over her ass.  He couldn’t resist reaching over and stroking his fingers up her side, hardly touching her skin, sometimes not touching her skin at all.  Though she was asleep, she responded.  She always had and he loved that about her.  She sighed a little, and moved restlessly, but remained asleep.  He stroked her again, just as lightly, across her shoulders, down her back and up again.  Her breathing changed, became less regular, but still, she remained asleep.  He leaned a little closer to whisper in her ear, and continued the barely-there strokes of his fingertips, anywhere his hands could reach, not ready to wake her yet.  Every couple of minutes, she moved again, responding to his hands.

***

She was dreaming.  He was touching her, skimming her skin with his fingers, and it was heavenly.  Sometimes she needed rough and hard and almost too fast, and he always knew when she needed that, but right now, even with him hardly touching her, she was on fire.  She heard him whisper, but didn’t yet understand the words.  It didn’t matter.  He could be talking about taking out the trash or walking the dog or fixing the fence.  His voice just did that to her, especially when he touched her like this.

***

He wasn’t talking about taking out the trash.  He whispered about the moon shining through the window onto her skin, and about smoothing over her skin with almond oil from head to foot, and nuzzling her neck with catlike affection, all the while continuing to glide his hand over her body.   She rolled a little, her face and body slightly away from him, and he could just make out the curve of her breast.  One leg moved away from the other, allowing him access to more skin.  He whispered of the glow her skin got when she was aroused, and began ever so lightly moving his lips over her skin in concert with his fingers. 

He whispered more intently, using his fingers to emphasize his words.  He moved over the edges of her breast, and he could feel her skin goosebump.  He slid his hand down her back and over one cheek of her ass, pushing the sheet aside as he went, until he reached her inner thighs.  He sat up a little – he needed more control over his hand as he moved toward her curls.  He continued to move slowly and gently, knowing what the payoff would be.

***

She felt his lips on her shoulders, her neck, the very edge of her breast.  She wished desperately that he would touch all of her breast, move his lips from her neck to her nipple, move to the other side and pay attention to that one, too.  For some reason, though, she couldn’t tell him to do that.  His hand moved down her back and over her ass, playing with her thighs.  Yes!  Now he would give her what she wanted, but NO.  It was maddening the way he refused to use any pressure, wasn’t really touching her at all and wasn’t touching her where she wanted, needed him to touch. 

***

He watched as she began to squirm more.  Her breathing became heavier and she whimpered a couple of times, whispering incoherently.  He knew that his time was limited.  He opened his mouth and gave slightly wet kisses to her lower back, her ass, her hip, the backs of her legs.  His fingers touched her curls, no pressure, just enough sensation for her body to respond and want more.  Still asleep, her leg jerked on the sheet, moving farther away so her hip was canted up. 

***

She wanted to roll over, but his hand was on her hip, keeping her in place.  But at last!  His perfect fingers were touching her, sliding over the lips of her pussy, rounding her clitoris and back again.  She could hear him still whispering, about how good she smelled, how wet she was, how he couldn’t wait to have her again.  What was he waiting for?  Then his hand moved up over her hip and came back down the front to play again.

***

As he touched her ass, squeezed her hip and moved his hand back to her pussy, he moved the rest of him back up the bed until he was whispering directly into her ear again.  He could smell her arousal, his own arousal, and knew she’d be waking up any moment now.  He whispered of his fingers deep in her pussy, his thumb flicking relentlessly against her clitoris, and how she’d never been hotter to him.  He could feel her moving closer to her orgasm, and got ready.  Just as she was about to go over the edge, he moved his hand to her hip and pushed gently into her, staying still a moment.

***

She woke herself up crying out just as he moved into her and she came, hard.  She stretched her leg back over his hip and helped him catch up.  As he moved faster, his whispers stopped making sense, and even in the midst of all of it, she laughed inside, knowing she could do this to him every time, even when he started out in complete control.

After thirty years, she still thought this was the best way to wake up.

**Author's Note:**

> It told me its name was Baseball. Don't ask me why.


End file.
